The Most Dangerous Game (Harry Styles AU)

11

-Harry

My right fist hits the large punching bag hanging in front of me, making it swing back and forth from the force of the impact.

I take a few deep breaths, waiting till it slows down before hitting it again.

"Got some pent up frustration?"

I roll my eyes, wiping my forehead with my wrist. "Make yourself useful and hold it for me will ya?"

Nate pulls himself off the bench, standing on the opposite side of the punching bag and taking hold of it.

Trying to keep it in place as I hit it harder and harder.

"What the f.uck man?" He laughs, "You trying to murder the thing?"

"Just keep hold of it." I grunt, striking it again.

He watches me with an amused look on his face, keeping a firm grip on the bag even though it throws his body backwards each time I hit it.

"Styles!" Coach yells at me from across the room, making me cease my movements. "What did I tell you about the heavy bag? Your knuckles are never gonna heal if you don't give them a f.ucking break!"

"Told you, they're fine. Haven't hit anything for three days now, am gonna lose my bloody mind if I can't.."

"Don't care." Coach cuts me off. "You go back to the bags when I say so. Get the gloves off before I throw you out of this gym."

I clench my jaw, pulling my gloves off and chucking them towards the bench. "Happy?"

"And no women in the training room." He scowls at Nate before stalking towards his office.

"Love you too Coach!" Nate yells after him. "Have a p.enis by the way!"

I shake my head as I begin to unwrap the tape from around my hands. "This is a proper waste of time. I need to be developing my power, not playing with a f.ucking jump rope all day."

"The guys an a.sshole but he's one of the best for a reason right?" Nate asks, "Besides, look at your knuckles. That's got to hurt."

I look down at my hands, the skin broken on nearly every knuckle. A bit of blood smeared across them from the tape rubbing against the cuts each time I landed a punch on the bag.

"Can't really feel it." I shrug. "Doesn't matter if I could, I need to be f.ucking training. This is bulls.hit."

I sit down on the bench, picking up my bottle water and taking a few large gulps.

"So you going to tell me what's actually going on?" Nate crosses his arms as he leans back against the brick wall next to the bench.

"Think I just did."

"Playing with a f.ucking jump rope." He tries to mimic my voice. "It's never bothered you before. What has you so wound up?"

I sigh, rubbing my face with a towel. "More who then what."

"Come again?"

"Everly Abbott."

"This is about a woman?" Nate chuckles. "Never thought I'd see the day Harry Styles let a woman f.uck with his head."

"She's not. She's just... I don't even know mate." I groan, resting my elbows on my knees.

"She hot?"

I scoff, "The word doesn't do her justice. Not even close."

"That good huh?" Nate grins, suddenly much more interested. "Do tell me more. What's she like?"